So Many things
by isayironicthings
Summary: Alone in her room, Persephone has a lot to think about.
1. 1: admitting you have a problem

I live in the isle of the dead.

I was always a happy child. Quiet, yet headstrong in my own ways. I am still as innocent and naive as I was then. I lay in my room and curse the way I was; the way I am.

I guess it all went wrong at some point, right?

I blame my husband. He saw me, I am sure. He looked at me; innocent, small, young, carefree. He looked at the tiny child I was and thought to himself "yep, better ruin _her_ life."

I don't even know what I'm here as. His wife, sure. But as a queen? His consort? Something tells me that is the least of my worries. In fact, if I were to write out a list of all the things I have to worry about, my status as his wife would probably be pretty low down on the list. Probably sandwiched between 'what's up with that bizarre three headed dog' and 'oh no my virginity'. Three guesses which one of those is higher.

All I'm saying is that if I'm gonna be his broodmare I better know more about the things in my general vicinity.

Not that he seems to be open to letting me walk in and out of the underworld any time soon.

Oh, well.

When I was kidnapped by him, I was in the middle of a field of flowers. After he took me, I was in a place of nightmares. Needless to say, I was a bit confused. My mother of course, told me about the Underworld. Not much, but she did. I suppose it was sort of ironic how the goddess of spring and life was so interested in... the opposite of that. Maybe now it won't be so weird. Heh, yeah that's what I'm going to be focusing on. Kidnapped by the god of death and I'm thinking of how now my interest in his domain won't be so weird.

Oh wait, he rules this place. This is literally _his domain._ Oh jeez.

Mentally, I curse myself for not automatically knowing that.

He put me down ever so gently from his arms and looked at me with adoration after he'd violently kidnapped me. He's weird. So weird, in fact, I almost fainted. My face had become pale, apparently, for he pointed it out with a worried expression. Of course it was pale, I _had_ just been forced into the underworld after all.

I didn't tell him that.

He then informed me that he loved me and wished to marry. I remained silent, and therefore did not object. Darn, that was probably my chance.

We married soon after. Like, the same day. Literally right after he proposed this marriage he made us actually go through with it. I was saying no quite a lot after that.

Being together at the ceremony was just me glaring at him. I sure hope it made him uncomfortable, because that was how I felt that night.

He carried me to his-or rather _our_ , as I was informed afterwards-chambers and laid me on the bed. He then informed me that he did not want our first time to be like this, but we had to otherwise our wedding wouldn't be official, and spoke words of love to me, probably hoping to ease the emotional pain of what was going to happen, but I was numb when he was talking of this. I cried tears of fear and shock and kept shaking my head no. He gently hugged me and laid me down. The next process was probably the most awkward and painful moments of the night. I would not accept what was happening. When he got off me he apologized and kissed my forehead before laying down the other side of the bed, not touching me. I wondered if this was how it was going to be for the rest of eternity. Cold and unfeeling.

The next morning he draped a blanket over my shoulders and told me he would let me sleep in my own chambers until I felt ready to join him in ours. Clutching the blanket, I made my way across the hall to mine. It was cold, and I dressed quickly in one of the warm dresses in my closet. Then I made a fire and let no one in for days and days. I ate and drank nothing, and bathed only when necessary. I made a nest of blankets for myself on one of the plush carpets and laid my small frame in it. I spent endless hours there, hoping to waste away and disappear, away from my husband. I resolved only to come out if made to, but no one ever came to order me out. My only visitors were shadows that moved to help me, and Hades himself. He tried to tempt me out with words of love and devotion, pleas and cries: but never commands.

So here I lay, swaddled like the child I used to be in blankets and pillows and furs, looking at the ceiling. Day after day is filled with nothing but my own company and the near constant stream of tears down my cheeks. I never told myself not to cry, for I thought of no reason why I shouldn't. It gave me something to focus on, at least.

I stare at the darkness, at the pale sombre lines on shadows at the lonely world I now live in. the limits of my mind stretch no larger than that which I have confined it to.


	2. writing is such dramatic sorrow

**Hey! I thought this was going to be a oneshot but I really do have this whole story in my head about them and a bunch of head canons I want to write out for you guys, so I'm adding on to this. A lot of what I write won't be this depressing, and it will mostly get better from here.**

 **Enjoy reading!**

Everything here is bleak, dismal, fleeting. I feel nothing.

Moments become desperate, the days blur into themselves. One day I fear I shall not wake up from the ever-coming darkness in the corner of my room. It watches me, I know it. I stare into its' empty eyes and see absolutely nothing. It is perhaps, the nothingness that makes this so unbearable. I live within my mind now, I have no nightmares for everything my mind comes up with is saved for these terrible moments of the sobriety I find in consciousness. I stay awake now, hoping, wishing, praying, for a moment of solace from my present horrors.

It is night now-or day. It is always dark here, I am not sure. Everything is the same. From the feeling of despair and lack of hope being locked up here brings, to the looming shadows threatening to become ever closer, closer, closer….

Summer days and warmth are foreign to me now. The only way to tell the time now is when my husband knocks on my door begging me to come out. The lord of the Underworld is not known to ask things of people, yet he asks me for my company each and every day. He seems to worry about me. Me, or perhaps there is another I am not aware of. Perhaps on that terrible night I was left with more than just bad memories… No. I feel no sickness, I feel no movement.

When I was sad back at home, my mother would always tell me that my emotions were created in my mind. She said that I could choose whether or not to feel something, but I must tell her that it is not like that. She must have never felt this. Loneliness maybe, sadness perhaps, but never like this. I am so alone, and just the mere memory of my mother brings tears to my eyes. I wish to die, to stop this overcoming pain and anguish I cannot simply choose not to feel.

The world is dark, like as of what I'd choose to say. I light a fire in the hearth and watch as the flames burn higher, ever higher. I watch their dance, so graceful, yet dangerous. They do not shrink from the cold like I do. The flames relish in it. The flames make the cold like them. They do not relent to the storm, they are the storm. They burn the air and make the world vibrate. I wish to be like the flames. I wish for the flames to consume me. I want to feel them licking away at my skin, burning them all away. I wish to feel my bones becoming cool from the air and feel myself slipping away from this world. I want myself to soar free from my body. I can never leave my body, it will be with me wherever I go. And where my body goes, my thoughts follow behind me.

I yearn for the touch of the sun, the sweet caress of happiness in this harmful winter. I yearn for-

I hear a knock on the door.

Is it a knock? Or is my mind becoming numb from this ever-present hounding I feel. Now, there is no daylight to chase away the demons. Only perpetual night. A knock again, yes, it was a knock! I heard it that time, plain as day. It seemed.. Alone. Shy, almost. Cautious, I peer into the darkness one last time before making my way over to the door. I open it slowly, horribly unaware of whatever monster may lurk behind it.

Upon opening, I find my fears were only half-founded. There, beyond the darkness of the halls, stood my husband. His hair was messy and tousled, slightly damp because of the perspiration on his brow. He stood bare to me, and I saw fear in his eyes.

"Persephone," He spoke my name as if it were a prayer upon his tongue, as if I were his savior. "Persephone, I-I need you," Hades said, his voice breaking. Ever carefully he put a hand on my shoulder, as if testing whether or not I was real. He looked at me through glistening eyes, his silent plea almost reaching his lips. "May I- please. I ask for so little, and I still would, if only you would-if I were to-" he sighs shakily. "Please, may I lay with you tonight? I promise I shall ask for no more than that, I shall not even try to remove you from your room tomorrow morning! Please, let me..." He plead.

Shakily, I nodded. He smiled in relief, as if he were a dying man that had just felt hope for the first time in years. I took his hand and led him to my bed, and laid down on the other side of it. Unsure of what to do, I looked at him. He had just pulled the covers over himself and was looking at me in awe. I blushed a little at his attention and looked straight at the ceiling.

"Persephone, may I hold you?" He asks. I look at him in shock. Of course he can, of course. He is my husband after all, and in exception to that one horrible night, he had never demanded his husbandly rights. I should be glad that he only asks this of me. However, as I look at his hopeful eyes, I cannot help but realize I feel a bit of warmth as the thought of touching him. To hold him, and sleep against him may even make me...happy.

"Yes," I say in a mere whisper. Hesitantly, I move closer to him. He loses no time in enveloping me in his arms, holding me to him. His arms are hugging me, and my face is almost on top of his chest. He kisses the top of my head and tells me he loves me. I vaguely see him through the layer of darkness surrounding us, but when I nuzzled in closer to him a bit I could swear I saw the room glow a little bit brighter.

I am not unused to hugs, but here, being so close to someone in bed like this, seems new and unusual. It is only usual for me to feel this way, as I have taken no lovers in the past nor have a sibling to share a bed with. Here, against my husband's chest, I feel those moments of respite, those far few and in between moments of calmness; and for the first time ever since I got here, I feel almost warm.


	3. Hell isn't empty its full of blankets

**Oh Jeez, I am on a roll here aren't I with all this writing... I've already written three chapters and part of the next. Blah,** **I think I gonna have to implement an update schedule soon.**

 **But you want the next chapter, right? (hopefully), So here it is.**

He came to me many nights after that.

Not every night, but enough to make me almost… _used_ to his presence next to me at night. We never did anything more than lay in eachother's arms, and I find myself thankful for that, for despite my somewhat experience on the subject of… _ahem,_ usual things couples do in bed… I really did not want to do it again.

I realize the so-called 'necessity' of that night, but I do not see why it was necessary, I mean, wouldn't marriage be enough?

Though I am naive, I am in no ways weak. It is demeaning now, to be forced into a loveless marriage. And now I am forced down here with no people nor even my mother to brighten my day.

I never was a social person, as a young girl I had problems making friends. It was not any fault of theirs or mine, I just was not the most social of people. Besides, I was kind of annoying. And where would I even see other children my age? I barely ever did. It was just me, my thoughts, and mom. To be fair though, my mom and I were very close. I can only hope I shall be able to see her again, perhaps when Hades finally tires of me and lets me stray to the surface. I do think that there will come a day when Hades does not force me down here, as he has stated many times that I cannot leave. I tried twice, each time a failure.

However now, with his arms around me and my back pressed to his chest as he gently caresses me even in sleep, I doubt that he will tire of me as soon as I hope.

The Underworld is not bright in the night. I can only assume it is night, for the only time I can see things clearer is in the so-called 'day' here. And Hades' comings and going to see me is the only full recognition I can get of general times. I wake up in the morning alone in bed and when my husband has not slept there last night, he comes and asks me out. I decline, for what good would it do to know a prison?

When he comes at night begging me to let him sleep with me, he leaves before I wake up, and does not ask for me to come out.

It is becoming later, and I scoot a little closer to his warm body in the dark. He pulls me closer, seemingly happy to be near me. He is so warm, the only time I am warm is when I am either curled up in a mountain of blankets or next to him. It saddens me to think that I shall spend the rest of eternity being cold. Oh, how warm I am right now, though! I find myself emotionally exhausted at all times these days, and sleep seems like a good idea. I drift off knowing that I am warm, if nothing else.

For now.


	4. And grumpy emos, apparently

**The story gets happier I promise?**

I wake up to a rather bright room. The familiar blue-ness is always there, but now… lighter. Much, much lighter. At least a few bits brighter than what I'm used to. I look around, confused. When the room's so bright I saw things I hadn't noticed before...Colors are more vibrant, patterns on the walls, and… there's a pair of arms that aren't letting me go.

What.

He is here. My...husband. He is holding onto me and smiling slightly. I sigh softly. His hair is messed up, I notice. The feared lord of the Underworld has bedhead. I smile at this, despite my hatred for him. It's kind of odd to think about, how someone who kidnapped me and rules such a terrifying place and basically is just a rather scary person all together deals with such mundane stuff as bedhead and probably knots in his hair.

His arms are still around me, which I notice with a frown. I am very much pinned down to the bed. I am facing him and staring at his sleeping face dully. It's almost as bright as if I'd woken up in the sun and I am all the more happy because of it.

I'd be even happier if he'd release his death grip [pun intended, I thought] and let me go. Perhaps even leave.

This is the first time he's stayed in bed with me when I woke up. From the looks of it, he is still asleep. Unless he has some kind of hidden talent for pretending. Jeez, he's really not waking up. Bored, I shift and look up at the ceiling. There's actually a lot of details in it, wow.

I am disturbed from my ceiling inspection by a movement from the now less-than sleeping person next to me.

I look over at him, and he looks at me with embarrassment and confusion.

"You're awake," He says, voice slightly deeper than usual.

"And now so are you." I respond in monotone. He looks ashamed.

"I'm uh, I'm sorry about waking up late." He mumbled, sitting up. I sit up with him as he slides out of bed.

"Why is it so bright?" I ask. He blushes slightly and looks away.

"Um… Well maybe it's happy?" He says stupidly. I stare at his flushed cheeks.

"What, the Underworld?" I ask with a raised eyebrow

"Um, yeah." He responds sheepily.

"All right, if you say so... I hope it's happy more often then. It almost looks like sunlight." I say. "I miss the sun" I almost whisper. He looks at me intently and walks over.

"I love you." He says, sitting on my bed. "And if you want a brighter Underworld, then so be it. My only regret is that I cannot let you free." He tells me. I look at him in annoyance.

"Well obviously you can, after all, what's stopping you? And you do not regret not letting me go, because if you regret something that means you wouldn't do it again." I say angrily.

"Persephone," He says, looking into my eyes. "You are right, there is nothing stopping me from letting you go. Except for my love for you! You are my queen," He says. I back away and stare at him coldly.

"Well as much as I'd love to be your Queen here, I dunno. I mean, you did kind of kidnap, rape, and practically lock me down here in the Underworld with you…." I say sarcastically. He looks unashamed.

"Yes." He responds simply. "And that was an awful thing to do, I know." He sounded like he was informing me of the weather instead of talking about every hardship I've faced in the past however many weeks. I roll my eyes at him.

"Speaking of you doing horrible things to me, how long have I been down here?" I ask.

"Well, about two months." He replies thoughtfully.

"Two months?" I clarify, incredulous. He nods.

"Yeah, that sounds about right." I growl at him.

"Hades!" I yell. "Why wouldn't you tell me before this? I've been here for two months, oh Zeus!" I watched as Hades' face darkened considerably.

"Don't you _dare_ use my brother's name while we are in the bedroom!" He almost yells. I gasp in anger and shock.

"Oh, bedroom? _Bedroom?_ How _dare_ you imply that we would _ever_ do anything ever again! You promised!" I half yell, half sob. He looks at me and softens a bit.

"Oh, sweetie I'm sorry." He says, putting his hands on my shoulders. I blink back my tears and push him away.

"I'm not your _sweetie_." I snarl. "And I want you to leave _right now._ " I say firmly. He looks at me with sadness and shock. I practically push him out the door and slam it behind him.

I take a deep breath in and out. I knew there would be repercussions for this 'conversation' we just had, and was not looking forward to it. Making sure the door could not be opened, I look back at the bed. It was hard to think that he was laying there just a few minutes prior.

It was hard to think that I had been wanting for more than just a voiceless entity sleeping beside me every night just a few days prior.


	5. H to A to the D-E-S WOO!

**Warning! Huge block of text below ^_^**

 **H3H3**

Persephone wanted her husband to be angry with her. She wanted him to suffer from everything he did. She wanted him to feel the pain of being with her. She did not want him to ignore her and go on with his life.

It was the worst punishment he could give her, the punishment of being forgotten.

At least, I hope she feels a bit sad without me. It pains me to think of her hurting. Souls have not been judged as quickly as usual. It is not my job to judge them of course, I have people for that. It's just that those people suck. Really, they almost put a woman in Tartarus for running away from her abusive husband with her two children. I let her go to Elysium, and her kids were reborn into another body. I can only hope they are with good company now. Unlike me, my company now is the visions of my wife alone and crying. I imagine tears running down her cheeks, her eyes getting red and puffy, and curling up in the place where I once lay, hoping to press herself down to the sheets that once held my smell. Probably still does, really.

But deep down I know she isn't. I know she is happy that I am not there, I know she is probably reveling in all the attention I'm not giving her right now. I know she's laying on her bed, or perhaps that pile of blankets and pillows on the floor she likes to curl up in, being soooo happy her adoring husband is leaving her alone.

I slump down in my throne a little more and rest my chin on my hand. The Underworld has been a bit busy lately, and I expect it is Demeter throwing another hissy fit at the loss of her Child. Ugh.

I do not regret taking Persephone as my wife, even though she has to live down here with me in the Underworld. It could be worse, I suppose. She could be in Tartarus… Actually, I can only hope she is still in her room, there's a lot of dangerous things down here, and right now she has no idea how to take control of anything she may encounter...

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on pinpointing her in the Underworld. I've been trying to give her space, and I've been told my locating trick is a bit invasive on the mind. I can also read their emotions when I focus really hard, but that is much harder and I can usually tell by looking at them what they are feeling. Granted, it's usually terror. I am kind of creepy, after all.

I exhale in relief as I sense her still in her bedroom. It's been awhile since I last saw her, and it is killing me. If gods could die I would have said I'd died a long time ago by just being in the Underworld all the time, but picturing my beloved with tears in her eyes just because she is here, the thought that she is going through the same thing I had when I first came here, will be my undoing.

I get up hastily and walk out of the throne room. It's been days since we had our fight, and I cannot put if off any longer-I must apologize. I walk towards her chambers, where I know she is. I know I know I know where she is. She is here-with me. And for the first time in a long while, I l almost feel content with her mere presence in the Underworld. She is like my own little lantern, a light in the night. And although the circumstances are not ideal, she brings light to my frightful existence. I am awfully selfish to keep her here, I know. It could of course be my imagination-a certain amount of bias will do that to you-but she seems like she belongs here. Not only is she full of life, but another thing too. She never seemed to fit in with the world where she was. That isn't to say that she fits in here, either, of course. Just that she has a lot to grow into here.

I stop when I find myself nose to nose with her door. Closed, of course. I take a few steps back and breathe in and out a few times before knocking. I hear a rustle of blankets and then a few pats of her feet as she walks over to the door. She opens it slightly, and I catch a glimpse of her head and body as it open just enough to let us talk. Her complexion is very pale-much like the time I kidnapped her, I note, slightly alarmed- except for her eyes, which are red and puffy. I feel my heart tug painfully at my chest when I think of her crying.

"Yes?" She asks, annoyed by my stare. I swallow nervously.

"I have come to apologize." I tell her, trying to maintain a steady tone."May I please come in?" I ask. She narrows her eyes and shakes her head no. I sigh slightly. She steps out in the hallway and closes the door behind her.

"Persephone," I start. "My actions were terribly rude. What I have done to you is unforgivable. It is against every rule that I have to do those things to you without your consent. No one should ever have to marry someone against their will, or go to a completely new land when they don't want to. And yet, I am not sorry for taking you. I am not sorry because I love you and you are the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire miserable existence. I have taken you from your home and forced you into this one, and I have forced you into a horrible state of depression in which I _knew_ would happen. I knew this, and yet I took you anyway. So yes, I am sorry. I am sorry for yelling at you, for getting angry at you, my one true love, and those slightly suggestive comments which may or may not insinuate things that you do not feel ready for. I am not sorry for taking you, but I am sorry for letting you sink deeper and deeper into this depression without forcing you out of it. Trust me, I have been in this state before, and I will get you out of it." I said. She looked at me in slight shock. I looked at her in love and got down on my knees. I reached out and took her hand and kissed it. Her lips parted slightly, and I looked up at her in a pleading manner. "My dear, will you ever forgive me?" I ask in a sorrowful tone. Her mouth opens and closes a bit in shock before she steps away from me and slams the door. I stand up again and sigh.

Sometimes I wonder if she'll ever love me.


	6. From a small city with expensive taste

**Oh yes hello it is I, the writer who doesn't update for weeks and then posts a short chapter making more conflict without any resolutions. Where is this going?**

 **To hell.**

 **[Eventually]**

"Hades?" calls out Hecate "Hermes' here, he says he needs to talk to you?"

"Oh? Did he say what he wanted?" I reply, worried.

"No, just that it was urgent."

"Oh dear, where is he?" I asks. Hecate opens the massive doors to the throne room to reveal a rather nervous looking messenger. He looks at me and swallows before walking closer.

"Lord of the Underworld, God of riches, I have a message from Zeus." I scowls at this. Hermes, mistaking my scowl at Zeus for a scowl at him, felt his heart rate going faster.

"Zeus says that Demeter will not let anything grow on earth. I'm sure you are aware, sir, mortals are dying."

"Why is she doing this." I respond harshly.

"Demeter has had her daughter taken. She will do nothing to let the earth grow until she has her Kore back." The messenger replies.

"Persephone." I correct.

"Ah, yes, forgive me!" He stammers. I stand.

"Tell Zeus that I will never give back _my wife_ , who _rules a kingdom_ to her _mother._ " I command. I even draw forth a couple harsh winds from pretty much nowhere and darken the room considerably. I don't mean to brag, but the effect is pretty cool. Hermes looks like he nearly wet himself. I have a tendency to do that to people. Even people who try to seem cool when they really aren't. Good thing I'm not like that.

Hermes leaves and Hecate raises an eyebrow at me.

"Really, Hades? Don't you think that was a bit too much?" She asks. I shake my head, sitting back down.

"I will not let anyone take my wife from me." I reply seriously.

But I know that may very well happen.


	7. Musings of a lovesick king of heck

**SO DO YALL WANT TONS OF ANGST IN THIS STORY BECAUSE IM NOT GIVING IT TO YOU YET HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND ENJOY THE MUSINGS OF THE NOT SO ANGSTY MISTER ROMEO OVER HERE**

 _Dear Journal, I am currently torn between practically killing millions of people or letting my depressed wife be happy._

 _Decisions, decisions._

 _I am, of course, not the kind of man who lets his own personal affairs [like my boner-unlike some people] get in the way of ruling his kingdom. In fact, this is the only time I've actually done anything that seriously impacts everyone else! Well, there was that one time… but other than that, I have a clean record! I know the impact of what taking Persephone has done to people- I help judge them, I know what they've been through, I know. But, Demeter must get credit where credit is due._

 _My mother in law and sister is throwing a huge hissy fit and I have to be unhappy because of it. Granted, she probably thinks Persephone is unhappy. I guess that's true. She also must think it's because of me, which I suppose is also technically untrue. But hey, at least I haven't rap- oh, wait._

 _Actually, Demeter, maybe I shouldn't be trusted with your daughter! I mean, there are worse husbands, but I am hers! I should be allowed to love her! If only I had picked a different straw, I could have courted her, let her love me, maybe built her a home in a meadow surrounded with flowers and she could garden to her heart's content and give her jewelry and love and light and sunshine! But noooo I had to pick hell!_

 _Oh well._

 _It is not Persephone's fault that I kidnapped her. It is mine, and I claim all responsibility for it._

 _I do, however, think Demeter overreacted. Yeah, just a bit._

 _OR MORE THAN I LITTLE BIT_

 _YEAH DEMETER YOU JUST LET THOSE MORTALS DIE_

 _WELL LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING YOU GRAINY PIECE OF SHIT,,,,,,,_

 _PERSEPHONE WOULDN'T LIKE THIS_

 _Oh well, my poor, precious wife. She would hate to know this! I do not wish to be the bearer of bad news, but…_

 _I must tell her._

 _But I will never give her up._

Hades looks up from his paper and puts the pen down. He looks at the spots of ink on his hands and at the fire in front of him. He crumples up the paper and throws it into the fire.

He watched it crumble and burn, the ends of the paper being seared by the flames, which gently lick it into nothingness.


End file.
